My Grandmother Was A Veela
by SoLeMbUmAnDAngela
Summary: My grandmother was a veela. That was what I always told everyone. It wasn't a lie, it was the truth. And everyone assumed that I was quarter veela and I just never told them. I never mentioned it and when asked I would say- My grandmother was a veela. And after that they assumed that I was three quarters human and quarter veela.
1. Chapter 1

My grandmother was a veela. I always said that and that wasn't a lie. It wasn't the whole truth. My mother is veela and so am I. The veela gene is more dominant than the human one or the wizard one. My father was a pureblood wizard and I was a full veela. There are no veela men, so the only way my race survives is by being more dominant genetically. My mother always said- It's all in the genetics.

Saying my grandmother was veela to all non-veela was a saving. It made them all think that I was quarter veela. They all hated me, the girls. They didn't show it but the jealousy was there. The hatred was there. All their negativity was there. It was always there. But as quarter veela I was still veela but more normal. More like them. I was more, more, more human. But I was more veela than they thought.

The mothers always hid their children at the park. I always played alone. In the sandbox, on the swings, on the slide, I was always the time. I remember the day a boy came up and pushed me. I was angry and I transformed. Talons, wings, fire and all. All the mothers took their children away and wouldn't come back to the park for days. That night when my mother brushed my hair I asked her why everyone hated us so much. She told me that they were jealous.

We veelas don't lie unless necessary. Otherwise we just don't tell the whole truth.

My mother said, and my grandmother said, and my great-grandmother said that people assume that the pretty girl is stupid. Beauty and intelligence are weapons just like knives and wands. People assume, darling, never assume if you want to stay alive.

Assumption in the eyes of my family meant failure. Never assume mother said to me, never assume grandmother said to mother, never assume great-grandmother said to grandmother. Mother whispered it into my ear every night until Gabriel was born. It was integrated into me, just like a purebloods hate toward muggleborns. It was integrated just like etiquette, fashion, music and intelligence. Never assume.


	2. Chapter 2

We had a summer-house. It wasn't very big, just a two-story house with three house elves. The land surrounding the house was one acre wide and two rooms didn't have their own bathroom.

It was my favorite place in the world, no matter the small size. Surrounding the area was a mile of woods. A thick forest with poisonous snakes and plants. There were many wild cats and bears there, so not one single person dared come. I loved it. For once there was no one there. There was no one pointing or ignoring. There was no one standing there with squinted eyes, a scrunched up nose, a frown and two clenched fists. For once, there was no one there teasing, taunting, making rude gestures and sticking their tongue. And for once I felt happy. But as soon as the summer was over we would go back to the taunting, the teasing, the rude gestures and the stuck out tongues. We would go back to the squinted eyes, the scrunched up nose, the frown and two clenched fists. We would go back to being blamed for everything and we would go back to being hated.

* * *

><p>We once went to the park and I went to the slide. One boy wasn't fast enough. While he was scrambling away, he fell and scabbed his knee. I was close by and they all blamed it on me. Every drop of blood, every piece of skin and every cry and whimper was blamed on me. Every single one.<p>

And at the summer-house none of it was there. It was like it magically disappeared. And boy did I love it.

Mother told me about Beauxbatons. I didn't want to go there. Four or five girls in the same room and a whole school of people. There would be no place to hide from the hate and I didn't want to go there. No matter what.

But I had to. There I would learn etiquette, socializing, and many other things I would need as a lady. I told my mother I didn't want to go. She just smiled and said I would overcome it.

"Fleur, darling. Do you know what makes a true lady a lady? It is her ability to control herself. At Beauxbatons you will learn that. And something else too. It is what makes beautiful women the most powerful in the world. And it is what makes veela more powerful than anyone else."


	3. Chapter 3

Beauxabatons wasn't horrible. It wasn't fantastic. The hate had a reason. Fluer was always the most beautiful. The loveliest. She gathered the attraction of everyone. When Fluer walked the halls everyone stared. She gathered everyone's attention. The girls were envious of her beauty.

But, here at Beauxabatons you were taught to be prim and proper. Ladylike and gentlemanly. Etiquette and manners. Here at Beauxabatons everyone hid their emotions and displayed only what was expected of them. The girls smiled and laughed at things that weren't funny, but, were actually a horrid truth no one wanted to think of and the boys told the jokes that were actually a horrid truth as if though they were funny.

And that is how Fluer learned the world worked. You were given a set of rules to play by and you were expected to follow then. The world was a clock were one side was a small gear and the other side was a big gear and together they turned the clock. If a chip came off the gear no one would notice, but if a gear were to disappear the world would fall into disarray and the clock would stop ticking. And as long as almost everyone followed the rules there would be a consistent tick-tock in the universe.

If enough pieces were to fall of a gear than the clock would stop working. But what are the chances that someday, somewhere you will awake and no longer here the tick and the tock of the universal clock. What are the chances that if you fall of the gear others will see and decide to come down too.

When you are given a set of rules to play by, play by them. For if everyone played by their own rules the world would become chaos.

For the clock to tick and tock everyone had to play by the rules.

Those entrepreneurs played by the rules as well. The same rules that everyone else played by. But to them the rules were a guideline.

And how hard it is for those people to survive.

Fluer viewed the rules as a guideline. And hid it so no one would ever know. Know that perfect Fluer was a guide liner. Know that perfect Fluer wanted to rip the rules into pieces. Know that perfect Fluer wasn't the best. Know that perfect Fluer could be torn down.


	4. Chapter 4

At Beauxbatons Fleur learned many things. Not just magic and etiquette. She learned how to make men fall at her feet. Lessons in everything. Just like her mother told her. What makes a beautiful and smart woman different from any other woman is that people look at her and all they see is beauty. Then that woman who is not only beautiful but also smart can fuck your life up. But, at Beauxbatons Fleur learned not to curse. So all people saw when they met Fleur was beauty and manners. That was it.

And no one ever knew what Fleur really thought. What she really wanted.

All those girls that were envious. Would they really be so envious when they found out what hatred Fleur grew up in? Would they want to be as beautiful and perfect as Fleur if they knew?

They would not.

It was a fact Fleur randomly knew. She had no friends to testify and such she stayed quiet.

Everyone could think the thoughts they wanted to think.

It was strange how quickly people thought the worst of everyone. Most importantly the successful.

Society brought them down into the depths. And only the ruthless survived.

Fleur learned to be ruthless. Not at Beauxbatons though. In life. All the hatred she had experienced as a child had not made her spiteful and hateful. It had made her ruthless. A cold blooded killer.

Yet Fleur never killed. It was a different type of murder. One where no one truly died, but was destroyed inside. Fleur perfected that art at Beaxbatons.

Every boy wanted her and every girl hated her. And Fleur learned to be ruthless to survive.

Because no one truly could love a Veela for their personality. Only Veela loved Veela for personality. Everyone else enjoyed the looks.

And when Gabrielle went to Beaxbatons Fleur made sure that he would not have to go through the same pain as her. Whoever laughed at Gabrielle Delacour met the talons of Fleur Delacour.

And that was the truth. Beautiful and polite. Sometimes talons, claws and fangs. But inside, ruthless, kind, loving. Not to all, to those whom she loved. And not just any love, a Veela love.

And that is how the world worked. People saw you and judged you and thought that you were the same inside. But your weren't, even though everyone thought so. And no one tried to get closer. To understand you.

And that is something Fleur learned at Beauxbatons.

But not everyone is like that. Some people are not shallow and see only looks. Some people see looks and think there has to be something more. More than that silver hair and perfect face. More than beauty and perfection. More than manners and etiquette. More than a Veela. There weren't many people like that. Only a few. Most people saw a pretty face and thought that the owner the face was shallow. Even if the owner wasn't. Even if the person who thought that way was shallow themselves. But, not everyone was like that.

And that is something Fleur learned at Hogwarts.


	5. Chapter 5

Seventeen. Fleur Delacour was seventeen. Well, she was going to be. In exactly twenty-three days,eight hours and seventeen minutes. Fleur had never been so excited for her birthday. Never had she counted down. In the park, as a child, she would hear children say to other children - "My birthday is in six months and five days!" And all the other children would squeal in excitement. Fleur never squealed. It was not appropriate. To tell the truth, that was the only time she heard squeals. Fleur's father never squealed, her mother never squealed and no one Fleur knew squealed. One day Fleur tried it. When she was six. Her mother was in the drawing room with her friends, though the term was used loosely. Her father was at work and Fleur was alone in her room. The next day she was going to be seven. And Fleur really wanted to be excited like the other children. She squealed. And then she giggled. And the next day her mother dressed her in black, her great-grandmother had died. For a long time, Fleur believed that when she squealed she could kill someone. So, a few months later Fleur squealed again. No one died. She tried again and again until she figured that perhaps she should try on the eve of her eighth birthday. She squealed. Then giggled. Then she laid out a black dress with black slippers and a black bow. She went to bed and when she awoke she expected to hear the news. Her hopes increased when her mother walked into her room with a sullen face.

"Your cousin, Lilith, can't make it to your party."

"Is she dead?" Lilith was Fleur's favorite cousin, but strangely the thought of having the ability to kill people was more important than some stupid cousin and thus Fleur asked with a little more vigor and excitement than courteous.

"She has dragon pox."

"When is she going to die?"

"Not for a very long time. She's going to cough and sneeze and be covered in spots but otherwise she'll be fine."

"So she won't die?" Fleur asked with hope.

"No."

Fleur sighed and her mother looking at the prepared black clothing turned to Fleur and asked-

"Did you want her to die?"

"Yes."

"Why!" Her mother exclaimed.

"Last year, I squealed and then I giggle and the next morning you told me great-grandmother died. So I thought this year if I squealed and then giggled someone else would die. But Lilith isn't dead." The last words were said with a pout and Fleur's mother laughed.

"Darling, you need more control, you can't just leave it out to fate to choose. You have to squeal, then giggle, then think hard about who you want dead. Say their name, in you head, out loud, think of them and why you want them dead."

"But I don't know I want dead."

"Well, until you know don't try and kill anybody. And. Never. Ever. Squeal. Only pigs squeal. Are a pig?"

Fleur shook her head and got out of bed, preparing for her birthday party.

Years later when she remembered the story, she realized it was all a coincidence. After that she only squealed one time. It was the eve of her sixteenth birthday and Fleur caught her boyfriend cheating on her with her best friend. Fleur ran to the bathroom crying and not knowing what to do she squealed in the agony of the betrayal. And then she giggled remembering the story of how she tried to kill people. And then she remembered what her her mother had said and thought a name. She screamed it out loud and she thought why she wanted him dead. She knew her friend would betray her sooner or later, but her boyfriend? She was not prepared for that.

In the morning she went to visit him to tell him they were breaking up. He wasn't dead. But, she was older now, she wasn't expecting it. Three weeks later he fell out of a window. But, that was just coincidence, you can't wish people dead.

Now, however, Fleur Delacour awaited her seventeenth birthday. It would be her final year at Beauxbatons and then she could leave. Go anywhere she wanted. For some reason she wanted to be a model, in the muggle world. They were idolized for their beauty, and that was all Fleur wanted. To be loved for who she was.

Her dreams were however ruined by Hogwarts, and its fucking dumbass Tridickwad Tournament.

She didn't want to go, but she had to. She didn't want to put her name in the goblet, but she had to. She didn't want to win, and didn't have to. But Fleur made losing look flawless. Fleur rarely lost, but when she did it looked impeccable. And Fleur did fantastically until her mother told her she was either to marry or get a job after school because they were cutting her off after her eighteenth birthday. That was the day she did not look forward to.


End file.
